


The Lost Short

by redwoodroots



Series: Gravity Falls Relativity Falls [4]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: ...so this goes the way you'd expect, Forest Walk, Reverse Gravity Falls, clones make a comeback, enjoy, ford is still a nerd, forest walk at NIGHT, in GRAVITY FALLS, there are also ghosts, this is mostly nostalgic and slightly bittersweet fluff, very brief very nonspecific reference to child abuse, with that tiny touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 07:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redwoodroots/pseuds/redwoodroots
Summary: Stan and Ford are at the Shack after defeating Rumble McSkirmish.  When their conversation takes a darker turn, Stan deflects by suggesting a walk in the woods, and Ford joins him.  At night.  Without Mabel.





	The Lost Short

**Author's Note:**

> And now, in honor of Lost Legends – THE LOST SHORT!!! Would've taken place right after “Fight Fighters” in Season 1.
> 
> Also, thank you to those of you who left kudos, bookmarked the series, and left awesome comments. No, seriously, thank you. Writing this is hard work, and I really appreciate it when people take the time to do that. You guys rock. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Ford looked over at Stanley, who was tying his blanket around his neck like a cape. 

“How do I look?” Stanley asked, striking a Superman pose, both hands on his hips. “BEHOLD! I am Stanley, Master of the Seven Seas!” He jumped off the bed and went racing around the room. 

“You look like a kid playing dress-up,” Ford laughed. “I didn't know you liked that blanket so much.” 

“Hey, this thing has quality craftsmanship! It's made with my blood, sweat, spit, and other fluids!” 

“Ew!” Ford threw a pillow at him, and Stanley groaned and clutched his chest as if stabbed. 

“My fatal weakness!” he moaned. “The _Pillow of Fluffy Death!_ ” And he promptly collapsed, playing dead with his tongue stuck out. 

Ford smirked, sitting on his bed and bringing his knees up to his chest. He rested his head in his hand. “Y'know, you were pretty brave standing up to Aaron like that.” 

Stanley's head popped up from the floor and he looked at his brother. “Oh, c'mon. And what were you thinking trying to _actually fight_ the guy? I thought you had a body guard, geez...” 

“I told you, that went south fast. And weren't you the one egging me on to fight him in the first place?” 

“'Cuz I didn't think you'd actually do it.” He picked himself up off the floor and dusted himself off. 

“Well, anyway, you were still way cool.” 

Stanley shrugged, but he was smiling from ear to ear. “No big deal. 'Snot like we don't have our share of bullies back home. Aaron's a total wimp next to dad.” 

They looked at each other. It had just slipped out, but the word seemed to blow up in the room, sucking out the air. The smile had vanished from Stanley's face. 

“It's weird,” Ford said slowly. “I haven't thought about Pop at all. Not for the last week or so.” 

Stanley grunted and went to lie down on his bed. 

“You don't think it's weird?” Ford asked him. 

Stanley lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, shrugging. “It is what it is, I guess.” 

“I mean, it sounds like Grauntie Mabel was kind of over-the-top earlier with the water tower, but she'd never –”

“I'ma go for a walk,” Stanley said, sitting up. 

“What, _now?_ ” 

“No, next week. Yes, now!” He grabbed a sweater from the floor by his bed and pulled it on. “You wanna come?” 

“You know there's monsters in the woods, right?” 

He shrugged. “So we won't take the car. I'm not looking to become a midnight snack here.” 

“If we get in trouble...” 

“You coming or what?” 

Ford sighed and got out of bed. It wasn't like he could let Stanley go wandering around the forest by himself. At least if he was along, he could use the journal if they met a monster. 

 

“Okay,” Stanley said, “This miiiiight have been a stupid idea. Where are we again?” 

“Lost,” Ford said flatly. “I _told_ you it was a right back at that glowing tree.” 

“We did go right! Until we ran into that giant ghost boar.” 

Ford grunted, sweeping his flashlight over the ground, then up through the trees. He had a pretty good sense of direction, and he was sure they couldn't be too far from the Shack. The problem was, if they ended up going in the _wrong_ direction, they'd get farther from the Shack and deeper into the forest...which seemed to have a surprising number of ghosts in it at night. He made a mental note to set up cameras as soon as he could get back to the lab. 

Suddenly his flashlight caught something reflective. 

“Hey – a window! I think there's a shed over there!” 

They ran toward it. It wasn't a shed, it was a large one-room cabin, complete with curtained glass windows and a chimney. The wood was stained dark with age, the curtains were matted with cobwebs and dead spiders, and there were little animal bones scattered on the cabin roof and around the front door. 

Stanley stopped short. “Uh, Ford...” 

A light came on in the cabin, flickering with an eerie yellow glow. 

Ford grinned. “Perfect! Maybe someone in there can show us the way out...no, wait, that sounds dumb even to me.” 

Stan sighed with relief. “Let's just get out of here, huh?” 

“Okay, okay.” 

They turned to go. 

A huge whitish beast sprouted from the nearest tree trunk, its sightless eyes roving, its emaciated paws raking the air. It opened its jaws and howled. 

The hair on the back of Ford's neck stood up and they screamed, jumping back. The ghost continued to emerge from the tree trunk as if it was pulling itself free. It looked wispy in strange places, like it wasn't even solid, and its eyes rolled sightlessly. Ford relaxed slightly. If it couldn't see them, and it wasn't even solid, then they were probably safe - 

The bear roared, suddenly lunging forward, striking the flashlight out of Ford's hand. He shouted and tried to jump back, but tripped over Stanley's ankle and they both went sprawling on the ground.

Stan grabbed him. "Journal journal journal!"

"We'd need a silver mirror and I don't have one!"

The bear loomed over them, one paw rising for another blow, roaring so deeply the ground actually trembled under them.

“WE'RE DEAD!” Stanley screamed. 

“Oh no you're not!” 

A cloaked figure leaped in front of them, raising a silver hand mirror and a candle between himself and the beast. 

“Exodus demonus, spookus scarus, aintafraidus noghostus! Bumpus goosus shamalaaan!!”

The ghost gave a last howl as it was sucked face-first into the tiny silver mirror. There was a tiny ectoplasmic _pop_ , then the forest was quiet. 

“Sorry about that,” said the guy, turning around. 

Ford gasped. “Nikola!” 

He grinned. “The one and only! So to speak.” 

Stanley was staring at them. “Uh, Ford? I thought I was your twin...?” 

“Nikola's one of the clones I made with Grauntie Mabel's copier machine the night we had that big party,” Ford explained. “Where's #3 and #4?” 

He winced. “Daleth...sort of tripped and fell into a river. But Tracey's inside,” Nikola said, nodding towards the cabin. “C'mon, I'll show you.” 

As creepy and decrepit as the cabin had seemed from the outside, the interior was the utter antithesis. The floor was clean, the walls had been freshly oiled, and there was a cheerful fire burning in the fireplace. There were two beds with plaid, flannel sheets; an old-fashioned stove in the corner; another stove set above the fireplace, where a loaf of bread was slowly rising; and a table set out in the middle of the room, laden with books, papers, knives, axes, pens, needles, and quite a few bundles of yarn. Tracey sat at the table, knitting a sweater using two bent pens for needles. He looked up when they entered. 

“Ford Classic!” Tracey exclaimed, leaping to his feet. “And _Stanley!_ ” He shot across the room and nearly knocked Stanley over hugging him. 

“Uh, hi?” Stanley said. He sent Ford a Look like, _You wanna tell me what the heck is going on?_

“I told you, I cloned myself,” Ford reminded him. “Nikola and Tracey decided to live in the forest, since it would be a little tricky explaining why we were suddenly quadruplets.” 

“A little,” Stanley said, extricating himself from Tracey's suffocating grasp. 

Tracey pulled back, grinning, his eyes shining in the dim firelight. “I wish I'd known you guys were coming, I would've made a cake or something!” 

Nikola rolled his eyes. “You'll have to excuse Tracey, he's gone a little nuts with the baking ever since we figured out how the stove worked.” 

“Eating is _so_ much fun, I can't believe we didn't try it sooner!” 

“You don't need to eat?” Ford asked eagerly, whipping out his notebook. 

Nikola gave him a knowing grin. “We do, just not as often. And we actually can get thirsty, a problem we've solved by eating fruit. Don't bother with the notebook – if you want, we've got a whole stack of notes on our physiology that you can take back with you. Maybe you can even get them published someday! You could call it 'The Theoretical Physical Requirements of 2-Dimensionally Rendered Clones.'” 

“Uh, yeah, speakin' of taking notes back?” Stan said. “We're kinda lost here.” 

“In a minute, Stanley.” Ford was already scribbling furiously. “How did you even find this place? Did you build it? Do you get cold? Is that why you're knitting sweaters? Have your experiences diverged significantly enough over time to give you slightly different personalities?” 

Nikola laughed. “Slow down, Classic.” 

“Makes him sound like a car,” Stan muttered. 

“To answer your questions, we found it when we got chased here by a poltergeist. Apparently this part of the woods is full of ghosts – and this cabin is particularly haunted. We figured it was the best place to stay, since nobody would want to come bother us in a place they know is haunted. Not to mention that keeping the fire lit at night makes it seem even _more_ haunted. 

“We figure this cabin belongs to the Corduroy family, given the excessive amount of plaid flannel we originally found here. Most of it was pretty moldy or riddled with bugs, but a couple of blankets are still usable. 

“We do feel cold, although we don't seem to be affected by it, so the blankets mostly serve to keep us comfortable. Sweaters, too, although we've actually been knitting them to sell at the local swap meet. Most things we need, we can get from the forest, but stuff like raincoats...” Nikola gestured to his cape, which Ford realized was actually a bright yellow rain coat heavily coated with materials from the forest to serve as camouflage. “This, we needed to buy. Along with a few really old silver mirrors, because as helpful as the ghosts are at keeping guests away, they're pretty much pests most of the time.” 

He held up the silver mirror and gave it a little shake. 

“ _Ooooh_ ,” said multiple voices from the mirror.

Tracey nodded. “So far, we haven't found an upper limit on how many ghosts one mirror can hold, but that's mostly because we banish them as soon as we can. One incantation gets 'em into the mirror, repeating it gets 'em...wherever they go.” 

“Speaking of which,” Stanley put in, looking pointedly at the door. 

Tracey's face fell. “You're leaving already?” 

“We probably do need to get back,” Ford said reluctantly. “We only went out for a short walk. It's best if we're back at the Shack before Grauntie Mabel realizes we're gone.” 

The clones exchanged a glance. 

“You don't think Grauntie Mabel would...” 

Stanley shook his head. “Nah. But no point getting' in trouble for it.” 

Nikola gave Ford the stack of notes, which Ford promised to publish as soon as he could. Tracey took the lantern and led them back to the Shack. 

“You know the way pretty good,” Stan commented. 

“Sometimes I come back just to see it,” Tracey said over his shoulder. 

Stanley glanced at Ford, smirking. “Since when are you sentimental, huh, Sixer?” 

“Oh, that probably has to do with those divergent experiences Ford mentioned earlier,” Tracey said offhandedly, batting aside a low-hanging branch. “I mean, when I left the Shack, it was because I was helping get Aaron away from Seandra by driving his moped into the woods.” 

Stanley punched Ford's arm approvingly. 

“But I never got to go _back_ ,” Tracey continued. “I waited for the all-clear signal, but Nikola just came and told me what happened and that it would probably be best to stay in the forest. Like _that_ was fair. I was pretty mad about it, but then about a week ago Nikola left to collect some mushrooms and just...didn't come back.” 

“What do you mean?” Stanley asked. 

“He'd gotten mauled by this weird shadowy creature with huge glowing eyes.” 

“The Hide-Behind?” Ford asked. 

“No, it didn't make that rattling noise. I finally went out to look for him and I found him pretty close to the lake, almost ended up like Daleth... Anyway, all it took was a little paper and ink to fix him up, but it was still pretty scary. For over a day I thought I'd be living the rest of my life in the forest, alone. I never realized what I had until I almost lost it.” 

Ford glanced at Stanley, who was watching his footing, one arm out to catch Ford in case he fell. 

“I'm glad you guys are doing so well,” Ford said. 

“Oh, me, too!” Tracey swung around and walked backwards, smiling and still holding the lantern aloft. “You would not _believe_ the crazy stuff we see every day. All those nutty monsters, and getting to stay up late writing field notes...and at the end of the summer, _we don't have to go back_. We don't have to go back to Glass Shard Beach at the end of the summer. We get to stay here in the forest, totally free, immersing ourselves in the study of the unnatural world. It's – it's an incredible feeling.” 

Ford went a few more steps before he realized Stanley wasn't with him anymore. He looked back. Stan was staring at Tracey, who was walking forward again. When he caught Ford looking, Stanley kept walking, catching up without a word. 

“Welp, here you are!” Tracey said, pulling aside the branches of a bush. The Mystery Shack stood in its clearing, looking somehow beautiful in the light of the moon. 

“Thanks,” Stan said, starting towards it. 

“I'll hang onto your notes and publish it as soon as I can,” Ford promised, touching the pocket in his jacket, where they were pressed next to the journal. They said their good-byes and he caught up with Stanley, who was waiting for him by the back door. 

“Man, I'm beat,” Stan said, reaching for the doorknob. 

For some reason, two images flashed through Ford's mind: the look on Stan's face when he was begging Ford to go back in time for Gompers, and the way he'd just stepped in front of Ford back when Aaron had been ready to pound him. The same way Stan always protected Ford, when somebody threatened to hurt him. 

“What if we stayed here?” Ford blurted. 

Stanley turned, raising an eyebrow. “Uh, dude...we _are_ staying here.” 

“No, I mean – let's stay here, too. Like, after the summer. Hunting monsters and building boats and whatever else.” 

“How? I think Ma and Pop will notice if we don't show up.” 

Ford hesitated. “I...I don't know yet.” 

Stanley nodded slowly. “Well...spending the rest of our lives living with a fat big and a tacky old lady with serious halitosis and an addition to glitter...I guess I can think of worse things to do with my time.” 

Which Ford knew meant: _Hell yeah I wanna stay!!_

“I'll think of something,” Ford promised. 

Stanley grinned. “Sounds like a plan, Sixer.” 

He opened the door and they went inside.

**Author's Note:**

> MY FLUFFIES!!! Filbrick you nasty pickled onion you stay away from these wonderful niblings I MEAN IT
> 
> The first episode of Season 4 will be up the first Friday in June! Bring popcorn 'cuz it's BACKSTORY TIME!!


End file.
